Review of Baby Boy

ATTENTION: In order to fully evaluate Baby Boy in this review, I've had to address a few of the film's plot points & details. I've made every effort to be as non-specific as possible about these details, but viewers wishing to know nothing about the film before seeing it may want to hold-off on reading this review until after they've seen the movie.

The best way to illustrate what is wrong with Baby Boy is to cite an example I noted during an Austin screening of the film a few weeks ago. Leads Tyrese Gibson and Omar Gooding (a near-clone of his Oscar-winning brother Cuba) chase down & blow away another of the film's main characters (who was, admittedly, a complete a-hole). This action had been carefully weighed by both "protagonists" &#Array; who had (so far) spent most of the movie trying to steer clear of the ultra-violent solutions & moral decay tempting their characters. They wanted to do anything but hurt and fight &#Array; but when the chips were down...and the crisis they found themselves in became fully evident...hurting and fighting was the way everything shook-out (although it was not their only option).

So, when the duo finally meted out such angst-ridden, irreversible, primal justice, they did so with a heavy heart and clouded conscience. The moment was dark and sober. So, why did the little girl sitting in front of me slam her hand onto her chair's armrest and say "Yeah! They got him!" the instant thunderous gunshots were fired at the bad guy? Somehow, I don't think that's the reaction director John Singleton (Boyz 'N the Hood, Poetic Justice, Rosewood) had in mind.

But the little girl's confusion is understandable: Baby Boy seems to be conveying two different messages: 1) the only way folks like Tyrese's Jody can jump off the road to life-long mediocrity & be the best they can be is to turn away from street justice, to grow beyond quick and violent solutions, and to see & embrace the bigger picture life has to offer us; and 2) when you're being hounded by a really bad guy, blowing him away is a difficult but acceptable alternative. Don't walk away, don't run away, don't look the other way &#Array; blow him away. Admittedly, Jody and Sweet Pea's act reflects "revenge" and "an eye for an eye", but that doesn't change the moral quandary such a contradiction creates. These two notions inherently clash with each other. Much of Baby Boy is very powerful and very involving, but the peculiar duality of this main message may make it difficult for viewers to totally "get" where writer/director/producer Singleton is ultimately coming from. More on this below...

Jody (Tyrese Gibson) and Yvette (Jaraji P. Henson) have-it-out in front of their perennial spectator in John Singleton's Baby Boy.

Baby Boy (titled due to one character's belief that most black men, are...essentially....children &#Array; they call their girls "momma", their friends "boys", their homes "cribs" &#Array; I'm just conveying what the movie is purporting, so please don't send me hate mail about it) treads a difficult balance between social commentary, dramatic sincerity, and surprisingly dark humor (the film contains some situational humor which is among the darkest and funniest stuff you're likely see this year), and it does so rather nicely. Performances are noteworthy from all leads, most commendably Gibson (who shows surprising mastery of nuance and timing), and Ving Rhames as Melvin &#Array; Jody's mother's new boyfriend. Rhames is an imposing, multi-faceted, and unpredictable presence in this film &#Array; his character symbolizes the struggle and uncertainty many people living life in South Central L.A. must face every day, may-or-may-not represent someone who has shaken-off the old ways & grown past doing the "dumb" things he did way-back-when, and turns-out to be something more than we expect him to be. A brilliantly drawn (and fabulously acted) role from an enormously capable actor.

Composer David Arnold (who scored Independence Day, Stargate, Tomorrow Never Dies, and Singleton's Shaft) performs more of his under-appreciated magic here &#Array; creating a score which is both a throwback (sounded mighty '70s to me) and elegant (rolling orchestral chords flow through a few of the film's more dramatic moments). Baby Boy's cinematography nicely captures the film's varied environments and tensions, and has fun with what I call "symbolic cinematography" (i.e. settings in which characters feel out of place are photographed in a way which makes the places seem uninviting or barren &#Array; places in which our characters feel comfortable are lit with radiant "warm" hues, etc.)

As mentioned above, Singleton deftly juggles multiple tones in this movie &#Array; impressively shifting between (and intermixing) intensity and levity in a way few filmmakers could master. But for all of his narrative proficiency, there's still the issue of how Singleton conveys his messages. And Baby Boyis a message film: it preaches point-blank (sometimes obviously, awkwardly, and almost offensively) about the nature of Hood politics, about unplanned pregnancy, parental responsibility, overcoming ones life-limitations/oppression, identifying & embracing a greater "good", etc. for BB to be anything less than a message film. But Baby Boy's dramatic pay-off is much less succinct &#Array; what we should feel about our lead characters' murderous action is much less tangible. Ambiguity is acceptable in any narrative, but in a film which spent so much time hammering other messages into audience's skulls, ambiguity about the most significant element/message of the film is tantamount to a derailment.

Singleton seems to suggest that it's (somehow) okay to do anything necessary to transcend our lot in life, even if that "anything" means murdering someone else. Sure, our heroes do (indeed) kill a bad, bad, skanky person &#Array; but it's still murder. A murder for which neither gunman is ever held accountable, a murder for which there are no consequences whatsoever.

Maybe this is a "social statement" &#Array; a pitiful exemplification of how it is possible for a black man in South Central to get mowed-down & die alone, while no-one notices, or seems to care. Maybe the act is supposed to represent a "purging process" for our simmering lead characters. Maybe Singleton simply felt this was the only way he could resolve his story. No matter how you cut it, it's difficult to see (even though it's critically important for the film's dramatic success to see) what Singleton is actually saying here.

The little girl sitting in front of me a few weeks ago didn't know, and I'm not even sure Singleton himself knew. For all of its wit, grit, smarts, and earnestness, Baby Boy feels much like its main character: it has a lot to offer, even if it is a little confused and rough around the edges.

&#Array; Glen wonders how that little girl sees life right about now...